Turning Back
by DemonicK
Summary: With Malak poised to take control of the Sith armada, Revan must make a choice. Allow him to destroy the Republic... or sacrifice her own plans for the galaxy in order to stop him. KoToR I: Semi-DSF, *with* memories
1. Choices

**Turning Back  
[Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic]  
26 June 2009 **

**Chapter 1: Choices**

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* * *

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Everything she had done, she had done for the Republic.

There was a time when Revan would peer through the viewport in her quarters, gazing at the expanse of stars that always lay just beyond her reach, letting the immensity of the universe draw her outwards. It was times such as this that guilt would creep in; as her mind touched the various worlds, imagining each in their exact place, spinning silently through the void, and yet so full of life… she would feel echoes through the Force, or perhaps imagine them, from each of the worlds, and repeat the same phrase. Everything she did, she did for the Republic.

Long gone were those days, of course. Guilt was something no Jedi should feel; if an action would cause them to feel guilty, they should not do such. If such an action was necessary, then it was unavoidable and without need for guilt. For all that the Jedi Order could be fools, there was usually wisdom in their teachings.

Revan would still allow the universe to draw her out, but instead of sensing the life and emotion in the void, she instead saw precision and order. She saw the ways she could attack and the ways she could rebuild and prepare and defend.

A loose sigh came from the corner of the dark room. Tonight was not one of those nights. She just couldn't focus on what she wanted. A dangerous state to be in, with the game she played…

Settling herself on a bench alongside the viewport, Revan rested her temple against the cool screen, eyes studying the pinpricks of light outside, having already cast off her mask and cloak. Few had ever seen their master in such a state, and she kept it that way. Her thoughts were just too big for her mind this evening.

Revan had done evil things. She knew this, and accepted it calmly. She had defied the Council and attacked those that had been her allies. Not without purpose, though. Her allies had not been strong— this much had shown in the war with the Mandalorians, and even now. If one of their own could turn and cause this much destruction, the Republic was simply not ready to defend itself… not against the greater threat that she felt lurking out there. In order to make them stronger, then, she had to become the enemy.

This was not a role that Revan had been _eager_ to take on by any means, but neither did she shy away from it. She had used those who would come to her service, used the Star Forge… the size and power of her forces were undeniable.

A look of distaste came to the woman's face. This was where much of her thoughts had been straying as of late. Her army may have been huge, but it was not the army she sought. It was full of those who starved for power, wanted to rain destruction. Wanton destruction was, and would always be, pointless. There was no point in establishing dominion when there was nothing to rule _over_.

And it would have at least _helped_ if her own _apprentice_ didn't ascribe to the same oblivious viewpoint.

Malak's discontent with Revan's actions had been growing of late; it was part of what drove her into introspection. He wished to use the Star Forge to its very limits, create a fleet that could annihilate the Republic. It seemed, then, that Malak had slipped entirely into the Dark Side of the Force.

Revan had lost most of her faith in the idea of 'sides' of the Force, but it was plain to see that her one-time friend was entirely wrapped in his own darkness now. Of course, he was still a powerful ally, one she was loath to get rid of… She just had to keep a very tight leash on him, one that he had strained one too many times.

Not two weeks before, things had come to a head, and he had attempted to challenge her. Revan had ended the duel quickly and without mercy, slicing his jaw from his face. In one sense, it had been brutal and humiliating— on the other, it had only injured him, still leaving him in excellent fighting condition. With that, Revan had hoped to end the matter, proving her point— both her desire to cripple but not destroy, as well as the fact that she would not tolerate him speaking against her.

Part of the memory nagged at Revan though. She had felt a distinct amount of fury and a surge of pleasure in the battle's outcome. While she didn't follow the Order's ideals of zero emotion, either, she knew that such things were stemming from the darkness building within her.

It was unavoidable, with everything she had done, and the path she had chosen. Still, Revan sought to control her darker emotions, and avoid the chaos they could bring. Again, her thoughts turned to Malak. He always was the more passionate and fiery of the two. It was what made him such a strong warrior, and an excellent ally. It made him crap for strategy, though, and was part of what made him so dangerous. After their battle, he had been subdued, following her commands to the letter, properly cowed. Still, Revan could not be sure that his ambition would not return, and it would be disastrous for her plan.

_It could be __**me**_, she added, silently. The path Malak had chosen had rendered him unworthy as a successor, and while she did not doubt that she could keep his ambition at bay, she also realized that she was dangerously close to slipping like he had.

It was not the actions she took that bothered her. But, if Revan allowed herself to accept a dark or evil mentality, her plan could dissolve into chaos. It was fully possible that she could still beat the Republic, but to what end then?

_Underestimating one's own darkness, or overestimating one's ability, can be devastating_. Who exactly had told her that, she could not recall.

Perhaps this meant… she should pull back? Lessen her efforts? As much as Revan preached a cool head and self control, she had fear and self doubt too, and was just as stubborn as any Jedi about admitting them.

Making an effort to recollect herself, to regain sight of the true goal…

_At this point, it may be necessary_. And about this, Revan could not afford doubt. She must do what was necessary.

**---**

**---**

In the passing weeks, Admiral Lhysan had noticed his mistress' diminished interest in most things. Of course, she never showed any emotion, but lately she had been distracted. It wasn't obvious, and he was certain the rest of the _Leviathan_'s crew were too terrified of Lord Revan— none dared call her 'Lady'— to notice. However, he had served under her since the beginning of the Mandalorian Wars, and did not fear her in the same way.

She was dangerous, oh yes, but he had a distinct amount of respect for her, and he believed that she held some respect for him as well. Therefore, he did not tremble before her, and tended to notice the small signs.

The more obvious signs, however, were that their forces were pulling back; not a retreat, as their mistress would never allow that, but neither did they actively attack. For now, they made their way, assumed patrols, held planets. They did not expand outwards and if Revan had a reason for all of this, she wasn't letting on.

Lhysan trusted her, or at the very least, did not feel like testing his luck by questioning her. However, word sifted across the ranks that others were growing restless, and were not pleased with Revan's actions. Malak in particular was apparently seething over his Master's sudden change of heart and apparent weakness. Personally, Lhysan was glad that Saul Karath was commanding the vessel that Malak was on. Anyone but _him_.

The atmosphere in the bridge changed, and Lhysan knew that Revan had entered without even looking up. It was in the sudden hesitation at the consoles, the stiffness of backs and the slightly turned heads that quickly returned to their duties.

Lhysan rose and turned, bowing gracefully. Revan was, as usual, donned in cloak and mask; the admiral wasn't sure he remembered what she looked like under that mask any more.

She offered a bored gesture of acknowledgement, and he returned to his seat. She didn't ask for a status report; she rarely did, as of late.

He offered it to her anyways, as today's was of particular interest. "We're tailing a Republic fleet— our numbers well exceed theirs." This caught her attention, and Revan turned her head sharply. "We came out of hyperspace near to their position. They broke for the asteroid belt."

Lhysan pulled up an image of the system, showing their location and the enemy fleet's, as well as the belt in question. Revan stepped closer to inspect it. "They're going to make a stand." Her voice was quiet, yet anything but soft; it sounded odd and tinny through the helmet.

Nodding, for he had reached the same conclusion, Lhysan continued. "They cannot hope to outrun us, though they will make the belt before we can come into firing range. I suggest we split our forces, approaching them within the asteroid field from either side, so as to prevent any of their ships sneaking around and flanking us."

"Disperse the fleet," she commanded in her quiet way. "Order fighters and boarding parties to ready themselves." Lhysan's left eyebrow twitched slightly, but he held his tongue. Revan seemed to sense his confusion anyways, for she continued to address him. "We can face their ships, but not easily, among those asteroids. The smaller vessels will have the advantage in maneuverability. Our regular fleet will box theirs in, advancing _slowly_."

Admittedly, Revan's strategy was sound, but defensive. Not to mention, it was much harder to take a ship from the inside than to simply destroy it. It also put their boarders at risk, as the main fleet would still engage any targets they contacted. Still, Lhysan transmitted his mistress' orders throughout the _Leviathan_ and the other ships; that was the way of war.

It wasn't long until the Sith fleet had reached their destination. As far as sensors showed, the Republic fleet had not emerged from the other side. As earlier, Lhysan detected a change in the demeanor of the crew, but this time, it was like electricity; he noted, in the back of his head, that they hadn't seen any action for nearly a month.

"Deploy the fighters and sensor probes in the first wave. Deploy boarding vessels two minutes after. Pass the orders on to Malak."

The crew set about their duties, the volume in the room growing steadily as information was relayed between them or over the ship's comm. Below, Lhysan knew more crew members were being directed to their stations. He called up a channel, choosing to deliver the orders himself.

"Lord Revan orders deployment of all forces in two waves, according to the following data." He transmitted the message and plans, not only to Malak's ship but to the entire fleet. Malak was the one glaring on the viewer, however.

"Does she…" His voice was dry and leering; it sent a shiver down Lhysan's neck. The muscles pulled in his face— his equivalent of a dark smile, the admiral could only assume. Without anything further, he ended the communication. Seconds later, half of the fleet split off.

"Fighters are reporting contact!" The report came from an ensign with a headset pressed to his ear. Lhysan turned to regard him, and was rewarded with further information. "The field is swarming with enemy fighters— seems like they've launched all of theirs."

The admiral nodded. "Keep maneuvering those probes— find their ships," he ordered to another area of the bridge.

Someone at the weapons station flew into action as a squadron of fighters appeared from behind an asteroid. Perhaps they recognized the vessel they had stumbled across, as they instantly scattered at the first volley of incoming fire. All of the tiny ships dodged through the various asteroids, before regrouping for another approach.

This time the enemy squadron made a run at the _Leviathan_; some of them took damage from the cannons, but the fighters were too small and too maneuverable to be easily taken down that way. "Deploy the reserve fighters!" Lhysan barked.

"Already launching, sir!" one lieutenant called in an attempt to appease her superior.

Through it all, Revan stood silent and motionless. There was no need for her to interfere yet. She would step in when she chose to.

A squadron of their own was beginning to chase the enemy off of them, but they must have already transmitted their coordinates to other fighters. This time the weapons station was able to eliminate a couple before they reached the _Leviathan_, and though Lhysan could feel the spattering of laser fire across their shields, slight vibrations and lurches, he set his mouth into a thin smile as their own fighters came at the attackers from behind and the side, forcing the Republic pilots to veer off or be shredded in the crossfire.

"Move the ship." It seemed Revan had chosen her moment. "Use the vector the fighters approached from, and monitor for the presence of another vessel."

So many fighters doubtless would have stemmed from one ship; it made sense to eliminate said ship. It wasn't holding with Revan's original plan, though— still, Lhysan carried out the orders. Whatever she knew— or sensed, perhaps— it must have led her to a new conclusion.

"Found it!" The triumphant cry lasted only a moment, but there was a definite sense of satisfaction among the officers. One of their sensor probes had transmitted to them the coordinates of the closest enemy ship, the one that was no doubt the source of all the fighters, and Lhysan set them on a course to pursue.

Immediately, both squadrons of Republic fighters began to harry their ship again, and when the Republic vessel drew into sight, it was fleeing before them.

Revan fingered her own console. "Malak. Move to intercept at these coordinates."

_No doubt that will please Lord Malak,_ Lhysan thought wryly. He doubted the other Sith would have been happy with Revan's defensive approach in the first place, and was likely looking for any excuse to engage the enemy directly.

The battle growing beyond the viewport was absolute chaos, but one would never know it from the bridge of the _Leviathan_. Lhysan had always insisted on discipline and order, particularly in battle, taking his cue from Revan.

The ship rocked again, another volley from the fighters overwhelming one section of their shields and leaving burning gashes along the hull. Even so, Malak's vessel was joining the fray, now close enough to open fire. With that, the battle was beginning to turn in favor of the Sith. Enemy fighters withdrew, striving to protect their ship, while the main ship hammered away at their own, to which the weapons officers heartily responded.

Lhysan was on his feet now, monitoring his men and women, walking behind their stations and communicating with them himself. As he stood for a moment at the forward viewscreen, Revan stepped up beside him.

She raised her arm slightly, as if about to say something, but then froze. It wasn't that Revan stopped moving, Lhysan would muse later, but completely froze. Her stiff form caught his attention, drawing him to begin to ask, "My Lord—"

A hiss came from behind the mask she wore. "Something is wrong." Though her voice betrayed no hint of emotion, her fist was clenching in front of her. "…There are Jedi onboard."

"_What?_" Her revelation had not been missed by the crew, and Lhysan was quick to shout, "Back to your duties! Mobilize security teams!"

"No," Revan calmly refuted. Her hands were once more tucked within her cloak. She stepped past Lhysan, ignoring his confusion. "Allow the Jedi to pass." Sensing that he was ready to rebel against her order, she rounded on him, speaking firmly. "The Jedi are many, and strong. They will decimate your troops. They are not to engage the enemy."

"Lord Revan, if I may be so bold…" Lhysan dared. "There is nothing to stop the Jedi from attacking my men, whether or not they 'engage' them." He trusted Revan, true, but he was not one to stand by while _his_ crew was murdered.

Revan still stared at him. When she spoke, he could have sworn she sounded amused. "The Jedi are coming for _me_, Lhysan. I suggest you order your men to get out of the way." She returned her attention to the view screen. "Naturally, since I am their target, the bridge is their likely destination. Have auxiliary command take control, then proceed down there with your officers."

"…And the Jedi?"

"I will take care of them."

There was something odd in Revan's voice, that the admiral couldn't quite pick out, but put him slightly off balance. His shock was only furthered as she added, quieter even than she usually was, "And Lhysan… prepare your crew for evacuation."

The bridge crew were already transferring their controls and departing, leaving Lhysan the only one to respond to her dumbfounding instructions. "…Lord…?"

"This battle… I should have seen this sooner, but now I know that it is already lost."

"Against the Jedi?" His hand drifted to his sidearm. Orders or no orders, he couldn't see abandoning his mistress to get herself killed. She raised a hand to stall the admiral.

"It's not the Jedi who I did not see." Her voice, it was… gentle, he realized. All of this, it baffled Lhysan, and he was unable to even form the question. Luckily, she provided him the answer anyways.

"It was Malak."

**---**

**---**

By the time the Jedi boarding party had reached the bridge, Revan had seated herself on her knees in the center of the floor, lightsaber resting next to her. Her gloves and mask were off, the latter of which she held contemplatively in her hands. She ran her bare fingers across it, tracing the worn lines of the old metal. It was a Mandalorian helmet, one she had found on Cathar when she had once urged Jedi to stand and fight alongside the Republic. The Mandalorians had massacred the Cathar; this discarded helmet was all that remained of one that had tried to defend the defeated race. Revan had vowed then to wear that helmet until she overcame the Mandalorians.

Their defeat had come and gone, and yet still she wore it. Her mission was not complete. The true intent behind that mask had not been to kill Mandalorians, but to save the Republic, though any way necessary. That task had still lain before her. And so the mask stayed on.

"Was that really why?" She ran a thumb across the side, asking but receiving no answer. "Or were you just a mask for me to wear, to conceal who I was becoming…"

It occurred to Revan that she had put herself in this position. She always did, even as a youngling, she always got herself into trouble.

She closed her eyes. This time, she was putting herself in a new position, one in which she could hopefully salvage her plan for the salvation of the galaxy… and herself along with it. This was the thought she held strongest when a team of Jedi burst through the door at the back of the bridge, only to find the Dark Jedi in what appeared to be meditation.

"Revan."

She could feel them, all alive and burning within the Force. It was always a marvelous sight, a Jedi in battle. One rarely had the opportunity to appreciate it. "So you're here," she murmured, opening her eyes once more.

The person that turned to face them was, surprisingly, without her mask. Instead, they saw thin black hair that fell limply to her shoulders, framing a pale face. Thoughtfully observing them, however, were a pair of yellow eyes that looked as though they might retain hints of brown at the center, vestiges of the woman she once had been.

"I assume you are ready to face us," one Jedi said, a young woman. "You kept your troops out of battle with us… It seems almost… _kind_ of you," she remarked.

"I doubt I really have that kind of emotion left in me," Revan replied, quite candidly.

"Perhaps." Another Jedi, this one an older male. "But if you've enough of the Light left within you to allow them that, then it's not too late for you, Revan— surrender."

"Surrender?" She puzzled over the word silently. "…No. That's not why I've let you come this far." Revan could feel the grim readiness in them, the tension, as they prepared for battle. Even against a team of this many, she could hold her own, even defeat them. She set the mask on the floor, her hand hovering over her duel lightsaber. The tension increased.

She suddenly flicked her wrist, and the lightsaber rolled backwards, towards them. The surprise radiating off of them was enough to make Revan almost laugh. Still, the weight of the situation tempered her amusement.

"I'm not going to fight you either," she at last announced, rising to her feet. As she turned to face them full on, she released her cloak from its fasteners, allowing it to fall. Revan stood before them, clad only in simple grey and black robes with some armor over them. One Jedi tentatively held his palm above the offered lightsaber. She watched with no reaction, as he drew it from the floor and into his outstretched hand.

"…Why?" The young woman from before was staring at her intently, obviously confused, even suspicious.

_Why indeed…_ "My intentions were never the evil ones the Council saw," she offered. "Believe that as you will. The war I created is another matter however, and yet, I never sought to destroy the Republic. Nor did I embrace the Dark Side."

This explanation was certainly a shock to the Jedi that had no doubt been sent to apprehend or kill her. They were not slacking in their stances and grips, however— they showed excellent discipline.

"So do you now say that you are once more on the side of Light?" one Jedi asked skeptically.

Revan gave a small, mirthless smile. "It's never that simple. Besides, I can't deny accountability for the many who _have_ fallen to the Dark under my command. Or even… that I was slipping myself." That admission stung more than she cared for, but it was undeniable. "That's what's led me to reevaluate my approach. And to those Dark followers, I realized I had given too much power. I had too much confidence in my forces… and now, it's too late," she added.

"…No. You can still redeem yourself," declared the young female Jedi.

"I hope so… but that was not what I meant," Revan explained, turning sideways to glance out towards the stars one more time, the image cut with laser flashes and debris and asteroids. "I never intended for _this_." She gestured towards the Jedi and herself. "But at the last moment, I was left with no other option. Malak knows you are here… Bastila Shan."

She directed the last comment directly to the young woman, who stood a little stiffer upon the revelation that the Dark Lord of the Sith recognized her.

"I felt it through the Force, too late: Malak's intent to betray me, growing steadily, and now his moment has arrived… I could have struck at you or him," she went on, her voice now rueful, "but there is no way I could have defeated the both of you."

"And so you choose to save yourself?" Whoever the speaker was, it appeared they were not the only skeptic. Many eyes were narrowed.

Revan shrugged, an odd gesture to see from a Sith Lord. "Well, yes. That's part of the reason. But if fleeing was my only intention, I hardly needed to confront you lot do so." She raised an incredulous eyebrow at the idea, but her expression soon hardened. "One way or another, Malak is going to take control of the Sith. And that is a _far_ more dangerous prospect than either of us want to face."

Shan stepped forward, but hesitated; Revan could hardly blame the woman, suspicion was flooding from her, as it should have. "According to you, that prospect is unavoidable," she pointed out, critically.

Revan bowed her head slightly, eyes no longer focusing on them. If she had seen, sooner, or had simply killed Malak in their duel…

A sudden burst of fire rocked the bridge, and all were shaken, fumbling to keep themselves upright.

"It is now." Looking up, Revan's yellow eyes narrowed as various alarms began flashing across the bridge. Another bombardment was headed their way. "As I said, Malak has realized you are on board my ship. He has opportunity to eliminate two of his enemies at once." He gaze slid to Shan once more, which made the young woman obviously uncomfortable. "And he seems to be taking it."

The man who had her lightsaber gave Revan a long and searching look as he gripped at a nearby console, breaking it only as their ship rocked again. She could see from the corner of her eye, consoles indicating that escape pods were already launching. So Lhysan _had_ acknowledged her last order. Returning her attention to the Jedi, she found that the man was looking to her again.

"So what do you propose?"

Revan visibly hesitated before answering. "As I said, I've no desire to allow Malak to conquer the galaxy or destroy the Republic. And… I'm willing to give up my own plans to prevent him from doing so."

The expressions that met that statement showed that they still didn't trust her, but she knew that what she said made sense. Besides, if Revan was offering herself to the Jedi without a fight— they could take it as a surrender if it made them feel better— they could not rightly attack her.

Another barrage shook the _Leviathan_, and a claxon sounded, accompanying a tremor that Revan realized was the shields failing completely.

"Whether you're telling the truth or not, we can't stay on this ship," the man finally admitted, albeit reluctantly.

"Let's move," Shan agreed, before sparing a glance back at Revan.

The now ex-Sith Lord stepped up towards their group, unable to keep from smirking as they each raised their lightsabers a fraction of an inch. "We should head for the closest shuttle. I'll show you." Revan continued right through their group, and none knew if they should stop her. So, they let her pass.

Shan continued to scrutinize her as she had this whole time. "…All right. But stay behind us," she commanded, a little imperiously considering who she was talking to. Again, Revan raised an eyebrow, noting the girl's bold nature. She had to assume 'us' was Shan and the male Jedi standing with her, who was now tucking Revan's lightsaber into his robes. They'd be idiots to let her be at _all_ their backs, after all.

But the situation was growing more urgent by the second, and the steady bombardment from Malak's ship was increasing in intensity. Revan could feel the pulses of the _Leviathan_'s lasers returning fire, but most of her ship's crew had already abandoned the vessel. The remaining men could only do so much.

One shot must have hit incredibly close to the bridge, for the blast of it nearly knocked them all from their feet. Revan caught herself on the bulkhead, noting as several consoles exploded and a crossbeam fell from the ceiling a couple of yards away from the assembled Jedi.

"Come on!" That must have been Shan, but Revan found herself agreeing. The two Jedi in front broke into a dash, and Revan followed easily, the sounds of many footsteps trailing behind her.

By now the halls were empty, with no one to see the strange truce that had formed among the motley group, Revan wondered idly, as she called for the Jedi to turn at the next opening, whether any of the crew would have even recognized her.

It didn't take long to reach the lateral shuttle bay; "Here." Revan strode between Shan and the other Jedi to enter the code to unlock the door, but allowed them in first.

Upon seeing the open and apparently functional shuttles, Shan leapt into command again. "Excellent. Thalen, Naros, check that shuttlecraft, and get it started if you can. Pirilias, secure the area. I assume we'll need codes for the hangar door?" She looked pointedly to Revan, who nodded, then held up a placating hand.

Bastila's still-suspicious look was met with the amused point that: "If I did something that would kill you, I'd die too."

_No doubt we'll be going to Coruscant, and the Council._ Revan calculated the hours that would take, accounting for all the time she'd have to annoy this rather uptight padawan. In fact, she was sorely tempted to pull rank on her, if only to see how they would all react.

_Strange bedfellows you find yourself in with, Rev._ Talen and Nero, or whatever their names were, were reporting that— obviously— the shuttle was starting just fine, and the other one apparently hadn't found any soldiers lurking about. Revan moved towards the shuttle herself and wondered if they thought she didn't notice the two Jedi flanking her. As strange as the whole thing was, Revan found herself breathing easier, even surrounded by people who had been sent to kill her. The whole thing was sort've funny, in a very twisted sense.

Once inside and the hatch was sealed, Revan transmitted the codes to depressurize the bay and open the doors. With that done, she seated herself on the nearest bench, strapped herself in, and folded her hands in front of her, waiting for the launch. At the helm she could hear someone communicating with the shuttle they had came in, no doubt telling their pilot that they had found alternate transportation. Her name came up as well, and there was a startled squawk from the other end. Behind her hands, she smiled.

Glancing up, she saw the other Jedi, some seated, some standing, but all across from her, and all regarding her silently.

Shan was one of them, and she approached Revan, though with trepidation that Revan caught with both her eyes and through the Force. "I must admit," the young woman began, "this was not how I expected our encounter to end today."

"It's not yet over," Revan opined.

"…True." About this, Shan was evidently displeased. "But your actions… they were surprising."

_She doesn't understand,_ Revan thought to herself. It made sense. _She's curious about my reasoning and why I would so quickly offer myself as an ally. It baffles her._ The Dark Jedi foresaw a lot of that coming in the days— probably weeks, or months, really— ahead. "…They surprise me too," she threw out at last. "Call it an impulse. Although," she amended, voice becoming a little drier, "make no mistake. If there had been a choice, I would _not_ be doing this." She eyed Shan who eyed Revan right back. The older woman's features became softer then. "But… there was no choice. Who knows? Perhaps this was how it was meant to be?"

To that, Bastila had no answer, and she glanced away, before turning from Revan, and going to sit herself down somewhere away from her.

Revan watched her go, before relaxing her gaze, no longer focusing on anything. That was a question she wish she knew the answer to herself.

_That's right… make light of it, be sarcastic, insist that you are still the same person they set out to fight…_ Having made her insane choice, and now with a silent moment to look back at everything that had happened in the last— what, half an hour?— she wasn't entirely sure.

There was no doubt, what she had done was crazy. She had never been the traditional, stoic Jedi, though. Her favorite master had always reprimanded her for her wild and often unexpected actions. She needed to calm herself, allow the Force to direct her.

The view Revan had always taken was that the Force was not her guide, but her map. She navigated by it, but it never determined her path for her. And yet… these past weeks, and this day… Part of Revan felt as if she was simply following events as they were being laid out for her. It was making her… uneasy. She let out a short chuckle at that, which made all of the other Jedi start and reach for their lightsabers, but after a moment in which they realized she wasn't going to blow up the ship and she realized they weren't going to gut her, she ignored them and turned to look past the pilot's seat, out the front viewport.

Funny, in a twisted way. For all their importance, for all they were risking and all she was betting on, it looked exactly the same. It was as though, in one quick breath, everything in her world had shifted radically, but out there, the universe didn't show it.

Revan's eyes drifted shut, consciousness drifting outwards; this once, she let the stars take her where they wanted.

* * *

**a/n: So what if Revan had chosen to return to the Light Side herself? (Or himself, to respect the canon.) If Revan had realized Malak was about to betray her, if she had realized there were Jedi coming to hunt her... between the two, I honestly don't think there was a way for her to win that day. If Revan wasn't truly evil, and wanted to do what she did for the sake of the Republic (in her own perverse way, at least)... could she have made that choice? Realizing that Malak was the more immediate threat?**

**Well I'm glad I've finally broken my block, though I'll admit KoToR wasn't what I expected to come of it. I really like the potential in this story, though. For one— Revan with her memory. For two— I didn't feel that the issue of Revan overcoming her past was that strong in the original game, because of said erased memory. The only major issue there was whiny-Carth. **

**You know the drill! This story isn't being beta'ed, so I rely on you guys to point out stuff for me. I mostly trust myself and spellchecker to handle the spelling and grammar aspects, but if you see plotholes, out of character-ness, or even just have input or want to discuss, I'd like to hear it. And of course, if you feel like inflating my ego, telling me what parts you like or what you want to see, that works too. **

**::DemonicK**


	2. A Decision To Be Made

**Turning Back  
[Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic]  
1 Aug 2009**

**Chapter 2: A Decision To Be Made**

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* * *

  
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They had suggested she meditate.

Revan had actually laughed in their faces, a derisive and dry snort. Heightening her amusement was the clear unease that spread throughout her Jedi guards with her reaction. She knew Jedi; any expression of emotion made them awkward or embarrassed. Coming from her...

Anger they expected, she knew. Anger they could face with their own steadfast calm. And it was all they expected from the Lord of the Sith.

It was _silly_. The thought brought the hint of a smirk to Revan's face. One of her guards, who now stood arranged around her circular cell, obviously caught the expression, as he began to shift uneasily.

This had been her own idea. True, Revan wasn't really in a position to control what happened, something that did not sit well with her. However, she concealed it, knowing, logically, that they would not harm her. It was against their principles. She didn't shun anger, but neither did she welcome it needlessly. For the moment, things were well, considering her recent fall from power.

So she sat in silence in her prison cell in the temple on Coruscant, surrounded by guards. They expected betrayal. Smart of them, but pointless. Revan's main challenge at this point would be to convince the Jedi Council of this fact.

That was no doubt what the Council was currently debating— and had been debating for several hours. Could she be trusted. Even if she could, would Revan have anything to offer them? Once more, Revan's features twisted— a smile, or the closest the fallen Jedi could approximate.

Even though her emotions were drawing close to _arrogance_, something she swore never to indulge in, the idea that _she_ had nothing to offer _them_... It made Revan want to laugh again, this time in genuine amusement. Hell, she could be their one chance of _winning_ this war.

Her smile widened, looking more real as she grew accustomed to the expression once again. This situation was... insane. That was the only word for it, although 'unreal' was making a close second. She, Revan, the betrayer who would have killed thousands of Jedi, simply offering herself over to them, proposing they... what? Ally?

She tilted her head back, expression returning to neutrality. It was probably nerves, adrenaline... the whole experience was a little heady, taken all at once.

Who had told her that the Force works in mysterious ways? Probably several masters. They never seemed to believe it had sunk in with her, always seeking to be in control. Revan believed it, though; her efforts to take and hold the Republic were proof enough of that.

At this point, however, Revan was more inclined to believe that the Force had a very ironic sense of humor.

She closed her eyes, pushing outwards in her mind, like she used to in the old days. If any place was bustling with life, Coruscant was, and it reverberated in her senses. It was a powerful planet, a key place. Long had she desired it; it was one of the few places in the galaxy she considered necessary, particularly _after_ she had—

_A bit pointless to be considering that __**now**__, isn't it?_ Revan opened her eyes, reluctantly, thinking it over.

Had she simply escaped, left Malak and the Jedi to destroy one another, perhaps she could have started anew... No, it was a foolish thought, and she knew it. By the time Revan could have raised another army, Malak would have razed the Republic.

_I could always start here... a better chance than before, to show people __**my**__ way..._ The thought was met with an unexpected pang of longing; it seemed Revan could still surprise herself. _It would be difficult, with the Republic forces instead of those of the Forge, but against Malak's lack of logistics..._

It was incredibly tempting to indulge in that line of thought. To work her way through the Jedi Order and Republic once more, as she had done when faced with the Mandalorians. Except, they would be expecting such a move from her. No doubt there were those who thought that was her entire purpose, to take the Republic and the Order from the inside out.

It was all made worse by the knowledge that _she_ could lead them, command them, better than any of the stupid bureaucrats that made up their 'senate'.

A door to the chamber that her cell was in opened, another Jedi admitted. He carried himself differently, and those guards present looked to him with deference, Revan noted. For one of rank, however, she was a little surprised that she did not know who he was. A pity.

She rose from where she had kneeled on the floor— his presence could only mean something important. "I go to stand trial?" she asked, pre-empting his attempt to speak, a smirk lighting her eyes.

The knight across from her could not help but feel riled at the expression in those sunken, yellow eyes. "You will go before the Grand Council." The words were stiff and formal.

So she would not be left to ponder her thoughts alone any longer. No matter. Revan would no doubt get many a chance to go over them— and over, and over— during the coming trial. She waited patiently as the guards unlocked her cell, and moved in to escort her.

They were nervous. Fearful. Anticipating attack. She smiled again, relaxing in the face of their anxiety. It was the knowledge that she was their superior, that she had more control than any of them truly did over this situation.

Now, to convince the only ones who did have some measure of power over her.

**---**

**---**

It was an odd procession, but one that Bastila could not seem to avoid. There were at least eight warriors surrounding one woman. She would have stood out, regardless, with her dark garments, and pale skin. Knowing who the woman was, though, made her impossible to miss.

Bastila stood in the shadow of a massive column, watching as the group drew nearer to her. Despite all of the reasons she could come up with _not_ to come see— Jedi did not _ogle_, after all— she had found herself here, in this corridor, the doors to the chambers of the Council waiting beyond her.

When they were closer, close enough for Bastila to study the features of Revan, she found herself locking gazes with the dark Jedi. She recoiled a single involuntary step, the other woman's eyes following her. Then, disinterested, Revan glanced forward once more.

Before Bastila recovered from the shock, the group had passed her by, and she stepped out from around the pillar, forcing herself to calm. Regardless of what that woman had done, she was still human, and now without the armies she had so fiercely wielded. Irrational fear had no place within Bastila's thoughts.

The group kept moving into the distance, almost lost from Bastila's field of vision in the dim halls by the time she saw them pause.

Doors were opened. The group split, some of the guards remaining outside, the rest disappearing within.

Bastila watched, placing one hand on the column beside her and leaning into it slightly. Whatever her doubts or worries, she could not glean what the Council would make of their prisoner. Something within her simply could not ignore the idea, though. It nagged at her and made her wonder... perhaps there was some part that Revan was yet to play?

The young padawan shook her head, resorting to a less enlightened method of clearing her mind. She was letting her thoughts run away with her once more; this was no longer a concern of hers, but of the Council's.

**---**

**---**

There was no preamble.

"Why are you here?" The question was barked at Revan from somewhere to her left— so much theatrics. The dim lights made it difficult to identify the speakers. True, most knights would have been able to identify them from their voices, but then, Revan had never honestly paid them that much attention.

"We share a mutual goal," she offered; it could have been phrased better, yes, but she knew it would annoy the masters of the council.

This time the words were spat. "Do not twist your words, Revan. Your goals have _never_ aligned with the Council's." Something inside Revan twisted just a little at the reminder, and she pressed her lips together in a thin line. "We warned you of your actions when you sought to face the Mandalorians. Now defeated, you expect us to believe—"

"That I have as little desire for _Malak_ to take the Republic as you do." The interruption was not appreciated, Revan knew, but she had little respect left for them as it was.

A different voice this time. "And yet you willingly relinquished control of the Sith. Are you, then, not to blame for Malak gaining control of them?"

Revan tilted her head, expression betraying nothing once more. "No, I would not take responsibility for that; the honor lies with _you_," she threw out. "You presented an interesting situation, which offered Malak the perfect opportunity to strike." She held out two fingers, before drawing them together. "Two birds, one ship. I was left with the option of facing Malak, and leaving myself open to your strike team, or fight them, and allow Malak the opportunity to blow up my ship."

"And so you chose to save yourself?"

"Do not let your objectivism become clouded— the nature of the decision seems unavoidable. A Jedi would have made the same choice."

Another speaker— Revan raised an eyebrow. So there was contention among them already, over whether she was to be trusted. She noted that they did not seem to include her among the Jedi any more; that was not nearly as interesting, however. _This_ was what she needed. Obviously there would be those who were already set against her, and she would not waste her effort on them, but if there were some willing to give her the benefit of the doubt before she had yet to argue her case, her chances were greatly improved.

"A _Jedi_ would not have been in that situation," was the cold reply.

Though she had not been invited back into the conversation, Revan spoke again. "Living was, of course, the first thing that occurred to me. However, my desire to survive would have been better met if I had simply abandoned my fleet and fled, would it have not? I did not realize immediately," she admitted after a moment, as though it were something very difficult, "what the implications were. It did not take long, though, to understand that no matter what happened, Malak was going to assume control of the Sith."

"One Sith Lord in place of another," someone interrupted. As freely as she did the same to others, it annoyed Revan, and her eyes narrowed somewhat. "Some would argue that the chaos involved in changing leadership is in our favor."

"As of now, it simply sounds as though you are upset that you lost control of your armies. We have yet to hear anything suggesting you are anything but a threat to the Republic."

"Naturally I am a threat to the Republic," Revan countered, her own voice growing cool. "I still could be acting as one, if I had chosen to. Instead I am _here_—"

"I know it is difficult for a _Sith_, but try to suppress your emotions," someone said, their tone imperious.

That implication truly did anger Revan, but before she could snap back, a higher, clear voice rang out; "You will all be reminded that we seek first to understand Revan, before we pass judgement."

A silence fell upon the room, as it seemed the speaker put everyone in their place. It was not so much the soft but commanding tone, leaving no room for argument, that held Revan's tongue, as the feeling that she knew that voice... and someone like that, with whom she could easily draw a comparison to herself, she would not forget.

At last, one of the Council chose to speak again. "Why, then, would you choose to surrender, instead of attempting to retake control from Malak?"

Revan did not answer immediately, born partly out of not _wanting_ to answer. She knew as well as any that pride only got in one's way, for all it seemed to run rampant in her troops. All the same, it left a foul taste in her mouth to say, "I do not believe I could have defeated Malak again."

There was low murmuring amongst the Council, which did little to improve Revan's mood. She wasn't going to rush to explain herself, however; she was not a padawan seeking to exonerate herself in the eyes of her masters. In these matters, she was an equal and would not allow herself to be treated as any less.

"Revan, if this is true, it lends to the argument that you chose to surrender only to save yourself from death."

"You assume that if I didn't surrender, I'd have gone straight to face down Malak." This time she affected a bored tone. She was not going to let them draw any further emotion from her, regardless of what she felt.

Someone actually chuckled. "Knowing you Revan... that is exactly what you would have done. You have always hated losing." Biting down, Revan was forced to remind herself of her earlier determination to hide her true feelings. "...For the same reason, I cannot see you surrendering without the need to. You would only choose this path for a reason."

Ah, at last... yes, yes indeed. Despite her moodiness, Revan was tempted to smile as they came to the conclusion she needed them to reach. At last she indulged, but dipped her head in acknowledgement to hide the expression.

When she rose, the words she had been waiting all this time to say were ready on the tip of her tongue.

"I sought to take the Republic— Malak has only ever wanted to destroy it. Therein lies the difference between 'one Sith Lord and another'," she added for good measure. "No matter what I decided then, Malak would take my army and make it his own, with a reign of devastation to follow. It is too soon to tell, yet, but within a week, I believe, you will begin to receive reports of an even more aggressive assault from the Sith." Revan glanced around the darkness of the room she stood in, tracing along the far side where she knew the Council were seated. "There's no point in it, however. Malak may have some grand idea of a galaxy of Sith under his command, built upon the ruins of the Republic, but it's something he could never accomplish. All that will be left when the war is over are the ruins."

Such a proclamation, given so easily and without concern was unnerving enough. It made it easy for them to levy suspicion against her once more.

"And yet, you stand to gain nothing from aiding the Republic in Malak's defeat— you think we should believe you possess some sense of altruism? I find it more likely that you seek to rebuild your army with Republic forces, and attempt to retake the Sith. Such an action would not be without precedent, Revan."

The true argument, she reflected. All of the other ones were stupid, suspicious, and could be explained away to those who would listen. Now, however, she would have the hardest time of it— mostly because, there was a part of her that wanted _exactly_ that.

Revan inhaled, readying herself. "I stand to gain nothing if Malak wins, either. I am also certain he would have me hunted down... so yes, my decision is a bid for survival, too." Humility was... not exactly Revan's strong point, and she reflected that perhaps she ought to have practiced what she was going to say. This was more difficult than she imagined. "Malak has always been the stronger of us, when it comes to combat. That's why I couldn't face him down. I have defeated him before, but only by delivering a crippling blow to end the battle quickly." The sight of Malak's jaw falling to the floor came to mind, and for some reason Revan could not fathom, the image made her feel ill. "I doubt the same tactic would work again.

"For all intents and purposes, I... have been defeated. There is no longer a way for me to win, not in the way I intended. Trying to continue, simply for the sake of not wanting to... to 'lose'... there is nothing to be gained from it." Revan swallowed, internally kicking herself for showing outwards signs of weakness, but it was true, what they had said about her. She did _not_ like to lose... Before, she'd have gone so far to say she _didn't_ lose. Now, it was much harder to swallow than the lump in her throat.

The Council had remained silent through this, allowing her to give her explanation. When she paused, however, another took the opportunity to question her. "It is sound reasoning... But such a thing is not commonly seen with the Sith. You must understand our suspicion."

Instead of agreeing with him— yes, she understood— Revan seemed to stare into the space between them, eyes losing their focus as she thought of something else. "I am not Sith," she said at last.

Apparently it was quite a non sequitur for the Council, catching them completely off guard. Revan did not grin as she would normally have done.

Instead she looked up at them, serious. "Sith, true Sith, are unlike anything our time has known. Those under me called themselves Sith— I took from their teachings and made them my own, yes." She could feel the distaste from around her, but pressed on. "But those who take that name do not equal those warriors, only imitate them."

The silence hanging in a cloud around her told Revan enough, that they did not believe her. Did not understand, could not. Echoes of the same came to her through the force.

Déjà vu.

"And what place do these 'true sith' have in your tale?"

_Tale?_ Revan's eyes narrowed again. "They are _everything_."

"What you sought to model yourself after?" Aversion. Disgust.

Before another could intervene, Revan jumped upon the allegation. "What I sought to defeat!"

"By becoming a _Sith?_" Power was flowing through the room now; she was making someone angry. It wasn't just coming from the Council though, especially at the next accusation thrown at Revan. "You claim you fought _against_ the Dark Side but plunged yourself into it!"

"_Enough!_"

Several others had attempted to speak, including Revan, but that single word cut them all short. A light came on suddenly and Revan threw a hand up in front of her face, grimacing in the sudden brightness.

_Dirty trick... stupid Jedi..._ When Revan's vision began to clear, however, that line of thought derailed.

Grandmaster Nomi Sunrider.

Revan stopped and stared at the woman standing before her— she was the only one she could see, as the light was directed only at the other woman. It gave her an ethereal glow that left the dark Jedi feeling awed in spite of herself, even if she logically knew that it was just a light panel from the ceiling.

"We _know_ what you have done in the past, Revan," Sunrider started, voice quiet, yet filling the chamber. "As for why... You could explain to us a thousand times, and perhaps we still would not understand."

While the Grandmaster stood, no one spoke, not even Revan. This left a silent pause as the woman watched Revan, stared at her, stared _into_ her, almost...

"...Yet, you are here. And with the threat posed by Malak... we may soon _need_ you." Sunrider continued to peer at the fallen knight in front of her, somehow managing to make the former Lord of the Sith feel small. At long last, she simply asked, "Why are you _here_, Revan?"

The question took Revan off guard. This was something she had already answered, wasn't it? "I... told you."

Sunrider just shook her head. "No. There are many explanations, all of them logical, reasoned, and yet, I don't feel that _any_ of them are _why_..."

And this left Revan, for once, with nothing to say. The same doubt, the thought that she was going about her efforts in the wrong way... was that what Grandmaster Sunrider was seeing in her?

Deep within Revan, at the very core of everything she was... what was she doing here? In the Jedi Temple, a place she had scorned in memory and burned from her thoughts? It was difficult for one such as her to come to the center of something like this; there were layers, complexity, so much involved in everything. And it was all there, in her mind. It was what made her brilliant in battle.

At long last, the whole time being stared down by the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, not with hatred or suspicion but a simple desire to know, Revan called up the deepest idea she could muster.

"...I don't want Malak to destroy the Republic."

This time, the silence stretched for many minutes, Sunrider never taking her gaze from the fallen Jedi, searching, though what for, Revan could not yet fathom.

Abruptly, the Jedi Master tore her eyes from the woman standing trial before her, and turned to regard her companions. Something unspoken passed between them. Then once more, the piercing gaze was turned on Revan.

"There is _much_ darkness in you. Evil things you have done... are still capable of doing." There was no room for argument with Sunrider's tone, even if Revan had wanted to deny it. She'd have been unable to, though... the Grandmaster's eyes stared into her own, and Revan felt herself simply held.

Not through the Force, no, but by the strength and power behind those eyes. It was something Revan was familiar with, but always at the other end of the stare.

And so she felt herself locked into silence, still looking to Nomi Sunrider, waiting on the woman's next words.

"And yet..." Revan blinked. When they did come, for some reason, the words felt unexpected. Something about the way Sunrider spoke, there was a softness to it that confused the fallen Jedi. As though she saw something the others did not. What she said only lent to this confusion; "The strangest thing is, I sense truth in you."

And then, of all things— she smiled. Nomi Sunrider, Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, smiled at Darth Revan.

"I don't believe you came here to harm the Republic. Or the Jedi," she added, sounding almost surprised at the idea. So was Revan; she could think of a few Jedi... "You truly intend to help defeat Malak..." Sunrider's musings drifted off into silence, before schooling her features once more. "We need no more from you, Revan," she announced.

Someone must have sent for the guards, as several reappeared within the chamber and surrounded Revan once again. She ignored them, focusing only on the Jedi in front of her.

"For now, you will be taken to quarters, where you will be confined and guarded. We must take time to determine your fate," Sunrider added, sounding kind. "I suggest you rest until then."

And with that, Revan was led from the Council Chambers, left to wonder what exactly Nomi Sunrider had seen... and what it meant for her.

**---**

**---**

They had provided her with a meal and with clothes. While the food had been welcome— Revan had a penchant for skipping meals, and had honestly started to get hungry— she picked at the robes, disenchanted with them.

It was stupid, but she didn't want to dress up like one of them. Regardless of what she had chosen, Revan was no longer a part of the Order. She couldn't well stay in her old, sweat-and-dirt-soaked clothes, however, and reluctantly changed— entirely disregarding the presence of her guard, who was at least decent— or embarrassed— enough to avert his eyes as she did so.

The kindness inherent in the change of accommodations aside, Revan knew she was a prisoner still. Given the fact that she could still be useful to them, this would likely be her prison for a long while to come. Revan surveyed the quarters; a bed, a chair, a door that probably opened to a 'fresher, and a desk. She couldn't help but notice that all of the furnishings had rounded corners, and with her back turned to her guard, grinned ruefully.

Left with nothing else to do, Revan lowered herself to the bed, before leaning back against the wall, eyes closed and legs drawn up under her.

This place was so quiet— the thrumming of the _Leviathan_ was gone, replaced by the breathing of her guard, who she was easily able to ignore.

She attempted to clear her mind, going back to the time of her youth, when she was a young padawan still learning to meditate. Blank slate. Empty page. Clear sky...

_...This is not precisely how I expected the day to end_.

...And _that_ was why she had never been good at meditation. She let out a soft breath, willing her tense muscles to loosen and allow her to ease. Normally she would just let her mind drift, her senses reaching out to the stars and past... Not the 'meditation' her masters had wanted her to perform, but relaxing enough. Revan couldn't quite bring herself to do so now, though.

Steadying her breathing, Revan just allowed herself to slip off to sleep.

**---**

**---**

The sound of the door opening woke the fallen Jedi. Her guard was departing— a change in shift?

She watched, seemingly disinterested until a familiar figure entered. Revan did not rise, but no longer was she sleepy, either.

"Revan."

"Grandmaster Sunrider," Revan acknowledged, eyes following the Jedi as she walked in and drew up the chair. The only noise to break the silence was the door sliding back into place.

Revan wasted no further time, however. "Your decision?"

Sunrider gave a small smile for the other's impatience, but then it brought to mind the last time Knight Revan had stood before her and the Council.

"You will stay here," Sunrider replied, letting nothing else show on her face. "From now on, to allow you privacy, the guards will be stationed outside your door. If you have any requests, you should make it of them."

That got a raised eyebrow.

Nomi indulged in a smile once more. "For all the Council does not trust you... You do not trust us either, do you?"

Revan met the question with one of her own. "Should I?"

"If you are to aid in the battle against Malak, it would help." That caught the younger woman's attention, but Nomi had one more piece of information to add. "The Sith fleet moved on Taris, not six hours ago."

"Taris is a key commerce planet," Revan remarked, seemingly calm, but internally cursing Malak in colorful Huttese. That idiot was going to knock the foundation of the galaxy out from under his own feet.

"Well, perhaps your strategy has worn off on him somewhat." Sunrider watched the fallen Jedi, and noticed the younger woman was not looking at her, or anything in particular. No doubt she was burying herself deep in strategy and logistics at the moment. "So far, he has not attempted to lay waste to the planet, but has destroyed all orbital defenses, as well as all backup the Republic was able to deploy on such short notice." This time, the Jedi's voice was full of regret. "For now, we have lost Taris to the Sith."

Revan mulled it over for a moment. "You should not attempt to take back Taris yet. Malak will no doubt have put the entirety of the Sith fleet there, in a pointless display of power. To have any chance of matching it, you would have to mobilize the entire Republic Fleet."

This time it was Sunrider's eyebrows that rose into her bangs. "How large exactly is the Sith Fleet?"

_Ahh..._ Yes, Revan had always made a point to never reveal her true numbers. Yet another idiotic mistake from her 'apprentice'.

Before answering, though, Revan thought over her options. "Is the Council meeting again tonight?"

It was not exactly the answer Sunrider had been seeking, but answered truthfully, "No."

Revan nodded. "Then perhaps it can wait until the morning. It will be a long report."

Sunrider considered it herself, before nodding as well. "Agreed. Are you prepared to give a full report regarding the Sith forces?"

"I will be," Revan replied, allowing weariness into her voice.

Sunrider rose once more. "Then that is how we shall start; a small step."

_To what... trusting me?_ It was difficult to see that ever happening. However, Revan knew she would get no better, and would at least be able to offer her strategic skills at some point. Then there was the Council's 'decision'. Grandmaster Sunrider had told Revan she would 'stay here'. She had not said 'guilty' or 'not guilty'. True, there had been no actual charges levied against her, because it was not a court of the Republic. All the same, Revan knew it was only because no such decision had yet been made. For now, the issue was forced, because Revan's presence was needed. But after that...

"Why did you believe me?"

Sunrider paused at the threshold, turning to face Revan. She did not need to ask who the woman meant by 'you'— Sunrider sensed it meant her, and only her.

Why indeed? Sunrider debated in her mind, before choosing her words carefully. "There are many ways you could have turned at that moment. You turned to us... Did you ever think, that, if you were to be defeated, you would take some of your enemies with you?"

The sudden question, seemingly come from nothing more than curiosity, struck Revan as strange. Sunrider was asking her if she had considered killing the Jedi strike team as an act of revenge. "It... occurred to me. Yes. It also struck me as a poor idea. At the time," Revan added on at the last moment, the ghost of a smirk crossing her features.

Sunrider didn't buy the sarcasm, and so only smiled again herself, a soft, small expression. "Yes... The Force works in mysterious ways, doesn't it?" She locked eyes with Revan once more.

It took a few seconds for Revan to answer. "...I've heard that."

* * *

**a/n: Okay, this is why I didn't put a time on the last chapter. Said chapter, I managed to get done and post before I started my summer classes. Yeah, I kept meaning to write some during that time, but between the tests every week, the two papers, as well as me just being plain lazy, it didn't quite happen. **

**Oh, another thing I learned. Laptops do not in fact drink bottled water. Or at least that's what I believe mine was attempting to croak to me this past Monday with its dying fizzle. Which generally hindered everything all around.**

**But no worries— I am enjoying this story far too much to give up on it. So don't despair too much if it takes me a month or so to update. On that note, my best friend is flying in for a few weeks, and apparently someone around here is turning twenty in **_**a**_** week. A little surreal. But my point is that I may not update for a while. We'll see how it goes.**

**As far as the story, I didn't get quite as far as I intended with this chapter, but I think it works out just fine. Look to pass some time and get on the Spire with the next one.**

**Huge thanks to general-joseph-dickson for pointing out that I should include Nomi Sunrider. You were right, she needs to be there. Thanks also to Spoodles, Kat, kafunilapla, Writingperson, and Voldy's pink teddy. Your names all play havoc with my spellchecker.**

**:P DemonicK**


	3. Debriefing

**Turning Back   
[Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic]   
8 Sep 2009**

**Chapter 3: Debriefing**

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* * *

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The Jedi had had their pick of any Republic officers they wanted— not something that _he_ approved of himself, but in deference to his superiors, he kept his mouth shut— but apparently, the Jedi Order had decided that they wanted Carth Onasi.

Being pulled from his ship and crew by some admiral would've been frustrating enough, but to be yanked on some whim of someone who wasn't even part of the Republic's forces? It did little for the commander's mood

Admiral Dodonna had cast him a sharp look over the com screen when she first informed him of the transfer, warning him against complaining. Thus far, Carth had managed to hold his tongue. But then, he hadn't come face to face with the Jedi who had pulled him from the defense line for whatever mission of theirs that was suddenly of the utmost importance.

Maybe it was something truly important— Carth might've even volunteered, if they'd told him what this whole thing was about. Of course, the 'high and mighty' had neither informed him or offered a choice. Superior bastards had simply demanded whatever personnel and crew they wanted, and the admiralty had caved.

It didn't help that he had been told to report, not to the admiralty's headquarters on Coruscant, but to the Jedi's temple. Which naturally did not sport a turbolift to the entrance. And so, instead of aiding in the defense of the Republic, Carth found himself trudging up a mountain of stairs. As he paused at the top, Carth was acutely aware of the midday heat of Coruscant; it was another reminder, a sharp contrast to the coolness of a spaceship.

"Commander Onasi."

The man turned his head to find a boy— couldn't have been older than thirteen or fourteen— bowing to him. Ignoring his initial reaction to snap at the child, Carth instead managed a partial, if somewhat forced bow in return.

"My master instructed me to show you to the Council's chambers." The padawan— Carth could only guess that was what he was— started towards the entrance, before catching himself, and turning back around, sheepish. "Uh… please, if you would follow me this way," the boy said with forced decorum. Carth didn't know whether to grin or roll his eyes. Probably yet another instruction from the kid's 'master'.

Carth had never been inside a Jedi temple before, but it was about as grandiose and mystical as he'd always assumed. Even so, Carth couldn't help but feel a little awe-struck as the padawan led him through a long corridor of huge pillars, he'd just never admit to it.

Two equally large doors stood at the end of the hall, and the boy immediately pushed one inwards, pausing to let Carth in before shutting it once more.

There was a soft light filtering through here, particularly from the hallway directly in front of him. Carth thought he could make out the lines of a large room further down, but his guide instead led him down a side passage, finally to a regularly sized door that was flanked by two older Jedi. _Guards?_

The guards eyes the two of them, and the padawan became palpably nervous, but he led the commander into the room, regardless.

In here, the scene was different. Instead of soft light, there was the harsh glow of vid screens and a battle map in the center, and there was no sense of awe here, only tension. A few technicians were running back and forth between consoles, gathering and sharing information, some followed by Jedi who were speaking in hushed tones. However, the majority of those present were grouped around the holo map.

His entrance was not missed entirely, as the padawan left him to greet his master. The man rose and looked to Carth— or maybe, assessed him— before nodding. Addressing his padawan, he said, "You are dismissed."

The young man hastily bowed before making a break for it. _Lucky kid,_ Carth couldn't help but think.

"Commander." The one Jedi was beckoning him over, but had returned to studying the map. Letting out a quiet sigh and thinking, _Best just to get it over and done with_, Carth approached.

Once he was there, however, no one quite saw fit to update him on just what was going on. Rather, one of the Jedi was speaking to some of the others, gesturing over the map, and the others ignored him in favor of watching her.

A hand on his elbow caught the man's attention, whipping his head around to find Admiral Dodonna herself beside him. Carth quickly snapped to attention, his hand dropping away from his sidearm where it had instinctively gone.

"At ease, Commander." She gestured to the map with a tilt of the head. "This isn't exactly a formal affair. Besides, we've got a lot to go over."

"I don't suppose we could start that right now, ma'am?" The quiet but pointed question was not lost on the admiral, but she simply pressed her lips into a thin line.

"I think there's still a lot the Jedi haven't told _me_," she said as an aside, and her displeasure was not exactly hidden, as she turned to regard the group before her. "But for the moment, we're anticipating another major offensive."

Admiral Dodonna's expression matched what Carth was feeling, and he figured their thoughts were probably about the same. They were _always_ anticipating another offensive. Which was why Carth would've been a lot more useful out there instead of in here.

Seemingly unaware of the two fleet officers, or perhaps simply ignoring them, the one Jedi kept on. "Malak's forces have advanced along these lines; our scouts are reporting that _this—_" she pointed to a cluster of orange dots "—group of ships appears to have doubled in size over the past three days."

"He's redistributing his forces. Maybe he's going on the defensive," an older, male Jedi proposed.

"Why are _Jedi_ discussing strategy?" Carth asked under his breath, but the admiral made a hushing sound.

"Do you think he's learned of our endeavor?"

"It is feasible," an old, wizened and green_…_ thing… advised. "All such possibilities must be kept in mind, lest they prove true."

Someone who had up until that moment been silent shifted and then spoke. "That detachment is well behind Malak's lines." Those around the speaker— a woman— shifted uneasily, something which Carth found strange. "Malak is too aggressive to assemble such large forces in reserve. It's an attack."

Carth had not noticed this woman before, but upon closer inspection, something about her did not sit well with him either. She was human, seemingly normal enough, though paler than most of the other Jedi in the room. Where the others all had a sense of elegance and spirituality about them, she radiated none of this. She did not wear a cloak like so many of the others, and her robes were very plain.

And yet... there was power. She drew the attention of everyone in the room, but it wasn't quite respect in their demeanors. Wariness, maybe, and that feeling put the commander on edge.

"Fortunately, any assault from Malak is going to be easy to predict. Unfortunately, that's because he's going to go straight after the weakest points."

At this point, the admiral broke back in, pointing out, "That much we've always assumed. The fleet is already deployed in defensive blockades around the most key positions, with other detachments ready to assist— we can hold. Particularly if he's as bad a strategist as you say." This was accompanied by a raised eyebrow from Dodonna.

The Jedi stared at the admiral in what was almost a bored fashion. "Malak is not going to be routed. If he cared about preserving his forces, yes, you could do enough damage to force a stalemate." She keyed the console on one edge of the map, and huge areas of orange began to converge on a particular planet. "Malak doesn't give a damn about how many ships or troops he loses, however. And he won't be satisfied with a simple rout. He'll advance as many ships on the Republic defenses as he needs to crush them."

"If that's true—" The interruption brought all eyes in the room to the commander, including the admiral's, who looked slightly surprised. "You're saying Malak is just going to keep throwing crap at us without reserve? So, what, we pull back into purely defensive positions," Carth argued, "and within a year, the balance of casualties would have Malak running out of forces. He'd wear down his own fleet _for_ us." The incredulity was evident in the commander's face.

The one female Jedi was assessing him. With a start, Carth realized that her eyes were yellow. Something finally clicked into place: this was a dark Jedi. The guards outside the door… and now that he focused, he could see two others that were flanking her— not standing idly, but tightly gripping their lightsabers, just within the edges of their cloaks. This was a prisoner… or a turncoat.

"Commander Carth Onasi." The fact that the woman knew who he was didn't particularly surprise Carth; no doubt the Jedi in all their wisdom hadn't thought twice about allowing that information out. It annoyed him, however, particularly when she added, "You don't disappoint."

Eyes narrowed, Carth was just about to demand who she was and why exactly the dark Jedi was here, but a tight grip on his shoulder halted him. It was Admiral Dodonna once more, but this time, she was very tense, and the warning in her eyes shut him up quickly.

Upon returning his attention to the gathered assembly, Carth realized much of the attention was still on him. However, many of the faces were grave.

"And so we come to the reason you are here." The small green alien thankfully turned the focus back to himself with that statement. Apparently, Carth was one of the few left out of the loop, as the unease in the chamber grew to a palpable level. "Your reasoning is sound, but for one fact: Malak will _not_ run out of forces."

The look on Carth's face was enough to make obvious his opinion on that statement. Hoping that the Jedi would start making sense, though, didn't seem to be a likely idea, either.

"It's an ancient tool known as the Star Forge. It is capable of producing a vast fleet of ships and an army of droids— more than enough to replace and even outnumber any ships the Republic could manage to defeat," the dark Jedi spoke once again. "And because of that, Malak will not withdraw his forces in order to prevent their destruction. It is simpler to build another ship as opposed to repairing a damaged one."

A glance towards Admiral Dodonna revealed that this… 'Star Forge' was news to her as well. She quickly jumped on the topic, though. "So I take it that this mission of yours involves destroying this Forge?"

"It seems it will… not be so simple," one of the Jedi answered with a sidelong glance at the prisoner who was now standing with her arms tucked around her stomach. "We must first locate it, before we can destroy it."

Yet another joined in— the young woman who had been briefing when Carth had first arrived. "The Star Forge is located in space, and can apparently be moved. Malak has almost certainly changed its position."

"Most likely closer to his other forces, for ease of use." A few sharp looks were cast towards the interrupter— the prisoner. All this information she was giving, though, was leaving Carth even more suspicious. As far as he understood, Sith were paranoid and suspicious themselves, and unlikely to share information with one another if it could be used against them. Even more so, why would the Jedi even trust her?

Unable to keep his thoughts silent, Carth asked, "So how are we supposed to find this thing? Wander around in Sith space and hope we get lucky?"

One of the female Jedi who had been briefing before drew herself up imperiously. "Do you truly believe that the Jedi would embark on such a fool's errand?"

This time, Admiral Dodonaa didn't bother with his elbow or his shoulder— she went straight ahead and planted an elbow in Carth's side, leaving him to both clutch his side and try to conceal that fact.

Grimacing, Carth caught a glimpse of the dark Jedi; she had obviously caught the movement since she was watching him with a bemused expression. However, she drew the attention of those assembled back to herself with a gesture to the display. "There are six devices, known as Star Maps." She began to enter some commands, and the orange and blue lights faded, leaving large black spots in several places across the representation of the galaxy. Some Carth recognized: Tatooine and Dantooine, and Manaan, he could pick out from where he was. "No single map will reveal the location of the Forge, but all six together will form a link that will show the Forge, even if it is moved."

"So that's what you wanted the ships for," the admiral was musing, moving forward to observe the holo herself. Carth held back, still nursing his side and aware that whatever decision was to be made did not involve him. In fact, he was still wrapping his head around the concept of the Forge, let alone these maps.

The small green alien was nodding. "If Malak realizes that we seek the Forge, his response will be devastating. We must move in secret, concealing the true purpose."

"Disguising the search for the maps as the movement of troops." Admiral Dodonna stepped up to a console herself, quickly vacated by a young Jedi, and brought up the tactical display once more, leaving the Star Map locations for comparison. "Most of these are on or near Malak's lines, though." Displeasure was evident in the admiral's expression. "Dantooine is almost entirely cut off at this point."

"That should be the one we go after first," the dark Jedi broke in, casting a look at some of the Jedi around the room, the ones Carth figured were the masters. "While there's the lowest chance of being compromised and well before Malak should figure anything out."

Apparently the subject had come up before because the proposal was not met with surprise, but neither was it welcomed. Indeed, the woman looked annoyed, as though she had argued this point before.

"Regarding chances of being compromised, it seems more likely to me that going straight for Dantooine would _raise_ those chances considerably," one older Jedi protested.

"Not if the action is masked with an offensive." The prisoner hijacked the display from Admiral Dodonna, which moments later displayed a line of attack— straight to Taris.

Several people broke out talking, but the admiral simply spoke over all of them. "You want to attack the bulk of Malak's forces directly? Exactly what about that plan is _subtle_?"

The fact that they had been summarily ignored had soon quieted the talkative few, leaving the dark Jedi to respond without interference. "The point is not to win, but to disguise the fact that Republic forces are moving towards Dantooine." She tapped a few more controls, and narrated the plan as it played for them. "Any battle should shortly turn in Malak's favor— allow your forces to be routed and scatter. Reassemble as Malak's forces go on the offensive. It will cover the retreat of a much smaller force in the opposite direction."

"To Dantooine," the admiral concluded, analyzing the idea silently.

Carth was doing the same; he might not have had the experience or talents for strategy that the admiral did, but even he could see how risky it was. True, it offered a payoff, but possibly at the expense of countless casualties as the Republic tried to match the forces Malak put above Taris. Carth doubted that casualties on the Republic's side added up to much in the eyes of the dark Jedi. Or the Jedi Order, for that matter.

At last, the admiral looked up, regarding those around her. "The decision on this opening move is going to take some time. Regardless, we need to assemble the troops that will be going on this mission, to get under way as soon as possible."

"You have a ship?" It was the small greenish alien once more.

"The _Endar Spire_," the admiral affirmed. "She's being fitted out in orbit as we speak; most of the crew is already on board." Then Admiral Dodonna turned and inclined her head to Carth. "You're going to be piloting her, Commander. Your shuttle departs this afternoon."

Given that Carth was here, the fact that he was piloting the mission didn't come as so much of a surprise; the nature of the mission was still taking time to sink in. Considering it frankly, he _was_ a little surprised that he had apparently been handpicked for such a venture. A curt nod was the best response he could muster.

Satisfied, the admiral returned her attention to the others present. "I take it all members of the Jedi's party will be on board soon?"

The phrasing of that question renewed some of Carth's suspicions, but he chose to reserve them for now. The Jedi were busy assuring the admiral that those going on this voyage would be shuttled up over the next few hours, as they determined precisely how they were to start.

And that, apparently, was that, as within a few minutes, the battle review had ended and many of the Jedi were leaving— the dark Jedi escorted by guards, who now chose to light their 'sabers, which apparently the woman found amusing, as she began to grin. One of the remaining Jedi offered to escort the admiral and commander out of the temple, but Dodonna declined, and took her leave.

Taking his cue from her, Carth fell in step behind the admiral and followed her out of the room. He waited until they were well down the corridor, before asking the question that had been nagging him.

"Ma'am. That prisoner… the dark Jedi? She's coming, isn't she?"

Admiral Dodonna cast him a glance, but gave a sharp nod of her head. She obviously wasn't too pleased about the prospect either, but offered a short explanation. "Yes… I've known that the Jedi intended to search for something. It seems she knows where these Star Maps are and how to access them."

It made sense, but it didn't make the situation appeal any more to Carth. Instead of focusing on that, he brought up another question. "About that, admiral— how do we know any of this is true? It seems a bit fishy to me. Particularly since the Sith aren't exactly known for sharing this kind of information amongst themselves."

The question had an unexpected effect upon Dodonna, one which Carth wasn't anticipating. At first she stiffened, then stopped entirely. Puzzled, Carth stopped as well, watching the older woman. She seemed to be trying to determine what to say. That did _not_ put Carth at ease.

At last, she said, far more quietly than she usually was, "I don't know that we _can_ trust her. However, the Jedi Council has apparently vouched for her. As to the veracity of her information…"

Carth did not claim to have any kind of intuition into future events, certainly not like the precognition that many Jedi could perform. Even so, he felt the crushing weight of the admiral's words before they even fell from her lips.

"Carth, that was not some Sith prisoner… That woman was Revan."

* * *

**a/n: Yeah, so… more of the 'I'm really slow at updates'. Hopefully this will help convince you all that I do intend to keep going at this, even at a turtle's pace. Which may be a bit of a misnomer, because I have seen my turtle Raphael run on dry land, and she's a fast little bugger.**

**I've been asked why Revan would be the master if she was unable to best Malak in combat? I do consider that an integral part of the story, so expect to see more on this later, but my take on it is: Revan's had other ways of maintaining dominance, largely through guile, cunning, and a very powerful and charismatic personality. There is also the fact that she is brilliant, and at first, Malak would have been capable of rationally accepting that she was a far better leader than he was. As time passed, he grew dissatisfied with being the apprentice and (re: the first chapter) did attempt to challenge her for command. I imagine this may have happened more than once, but never in direct combat until the time where Revan sliced off his jaw, which she did in order to end the battle quickly. Malak would therefore not only be supremely pissed off at her for a second go round, but probably wouldn't fall for the same trick twice. I (personally) think Revan's mistake was not killing Malak at that time. Which may say something.**

**I know this chapter is a little short; I intended to carry it further, but have instead decided to put up what I have since I am moving so slowly, and at least give that much to you guys. On that note, apologies if the story feels forced at points, because it essentially was. However, I can say with confidence that the next chapter will see us on the **_**Endar Spire**_** over Taris…**

**Thanks to general-joseph-dickson, Spoodles, GinsengH, Lisa, Captin Azza, nxkris and spider of the leaf for your reviews, and thanks to all of those who have listed this story as a favorite or under their alerts!**

**::DemonicK**


	4. The Endar Spire

**Turning Back    
[Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic]    
29 Dec 2009**

**Chapter 4: The **_**Endar Spire**_

* * *

"What… _what?!_"

Perhaps there had been some question that was trying to form in Carth's mind, but it soon dissipated into pure shock and disbelief. The grim expression the admiral was wearing made it all too apparent that she was entirely serious. The tightness of her features suggested that she was also bracing herself for an explosion.

Carth didn't disappoint.

"That woman was Revan?! _Are they_ _insane?_ Do they have any _idea_ what that _bitch_ has done?!" Carth was dimly aware that his words were getting louder and faster, but wasn't exactly considering that at the moment. A million other things were rushing through his head— he was hard pressed to keep from blurting them all out at once. "She… she's the _reason_ behind this whole damned war! And all of a sudden we're _trusting her?_ What the hell is wrong with the Jedi?! What is Revan even _doing_ here?"

"Carth—" To Dodonna, it was apparent that Carth was starting to border on manic as he worked himself up. She knew he had more reason than most, but all the same, she needed to reign him in. Unfortunately, the commander wasn't exactly offering a chance to get a word in edgewise. "Calm down—"

"What the hell possessed them to think that she's suddenly had a change of heart? …Did you just tell me to _calm down?_" Several seconds after the fact, the admiral's words seemed to sink in, but Dodonna could immediately see that it had been the wrong thing to say; Carth's eyes narrowed and his anger grew even more intense. "All due _respect_," he practically spat, "but do you remember who we're talking about? _Revan?_ The woman stabbed us in the back and then decided to tear apart the galaxy— she _crushed our fleet_ and she _destroyed_ my—"

The sudden realization of what he had almost said had Carth tripping over his own words; it was like a pail of cold water to the face. Despite the fact that the commander had well and truly crossed the line of discipline and respect for one's superiors, Dodonna couldn't help but feel pity for him. She knew what he had lost.

"That… _woman_," Carth started again, only slightly subdued, "has murdered millions of innocent people and terrorized countless worlds. Malak was _her_ apprentice, and it's only thanks to _her_ that he's in a position to take over _now_." By now, Carth was pacing agitatedly between the two walls of the corridor, his movements jerking and harsh. "And suddenly she's willing to help us and the Jedi are idiots enough to _believe_ that!! And they want to _bring her along_—"

That realization sucker punched the commander; they wanted to bring Revan on the mission he would be piloting.

Taking advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself, Dodonna stepped up, believing Carth had vented enough. "Commander Onasi—"

Carth whirled on Dodonna; "Not a chance in _hell_—"

"_Stand still_ and _shut up_," she barked. When it seemed that Carth was about to rebel, she cut him off, her voice like ice. "Do I make myself _clear_, Commander?"

Still seething but thoroughly rebuked, Carth drew himself to parade rest; it kept him from pacing but it didn't stop the murderous look he was casting her way. In any other situation or with any other officer, she'd have had him on the ground doing squats and pushes. For the moment, though, she was satisfied with his attention.

"I don't like this. Frankly, I don't trust Revan _or_ the Jedi." Dodonna had never been one to mince words, and she laid the facts out in blunt and cold fashion. "But for whatever damn reason, the Jedi have determined that she's not trying to backstab us, and _that's_ going to have to be enough for now. We _need this—_" she added, when it looked as though Carth was about to interrupt. "If this Forge is really out there, then we need to destroy it, before Malak gets the chance to completely crush what defenses we have left. If Revan is our one chance to find it, then, _hell_," the admiral offered, snorting, "I'd _personally_ give the woman a _piggyback ride_ across the galaxy if I had to."

This time, when Carth began to speak, the admiral did not cut him off. "Admiral, I… Look, maybe you're right and Revan is working with us, for _whatever_ reason. But I _can't—_"

"You _will_," Dodonna cut in sharply. Her expression did soften, though, as she admitted, "I know you have your reservations—"

"_Reservations?!_" Carth knew he was pushing it, but for all his military discipline, he couldn't stop himself, not now. "Because of that _woman—_" He stopped abruptly, cutting _himself_ off. Carth caught the pity in Dodonna's expression, and it made him even angrier. "I can't," he repeated, teeth clenched and words terse. "I _can not_ do this. You're going to have to find someone else."

Even with that spark of undeniable pity, the admiral held like durasteel, refusing to give in. "You are a damn good pilot _and_ commander, and we need the absolute best if there's any chance of this succeeding."

"There are pilots, just as good if not better—"

"I need someone whom I can trust," Dodonna cut back in. "Not just with the mission, but to handle the Jedi. _All_ of them," she added with a sharp look. She started, "Revan could be just waiting to betray us, to sway people over to her side…"

Carth didn't consider himself particularly brilliant, but what was coming next wasn't hard for him to figure out. "That's why I was chosen," he deduced, voice bitter. "Wasn't it?" he demanded, and Dodonna did not deny his accusation. "Because the Jedi figured, with my past, there's no way I'd let Revan influence me, huh? That's the whole damn reason—"

"No, it _isn't_, but I would be lying if I said that wasn't part of it," Dodonna coolly informed him. "I would not have _allowed_ it, however, if I didn't _agree_."

She pulled a datapad from her pocket and thrust it into Carth's chest, expression and body language signaling that this conversation was over. "That has your departure location and time. _Be there_," she ordered, leaving no room for further argument.

With that, she spun on her heel, and proceeded to march right down the hallway, out of the commander's view— leaving him alone in the Jedi temple, cursing to himself.

**---**

**---**

The ensign manning the communications console cast a glance back at her commander.

She, like the rest of her detachment had been pulled from their patrol and ordered back to the shipyards at Coruscant, told to report to the Endar Spire for a mission of utmost confidentiality. She wasn't sure why they included that clause, as they had not been informed of this mission's destination until they were already on board and sitting at their duty stations.

Why they were suddenly mounting an assault on Taris, she had no worldly idea, but then, _ours is not to question why_, she reminded herself.

The lieutenant commander who had been waiting for them informed her detachment, and every other that had been told to report, that he was their 2IC, and they were awaiting their commander, Carth Onasi. That had sent a few murmurs through the crew, as Commander Onasi was not unknown throughout the fleet.

Apparently this mission was something special, if crew members were being hand-picked from across the fleet; in light of their destination, there was a certain level of anticipation throughout the ship.

Their commander's arrival seemed to bring with it anxiety, however, as he had been in a rather foul mood upon boarding, though he obviously was trying to hide it when he greeted his lieutenant commander.

"Larijen… you've served under Trax, haven't you?"

Lieutenant Commander Larijen nodded, not missing the tension in his superior's features, even as he tried to cover it with conversation. "Yes sir, as his 2IC on the _Gatekeeper_."

Onasi nodded, distracted but he did add, "Yeah, he's mentioned you… said you're a fantastic soldier and commander. Glad to have you."

Larijen nodded; "Thank you sir," then proceeded to show his commander around.

The man had been informed that Taris was not their true objective, but that this was a cover to allow them to break through Malak's lines to Dantooine. There was undoubtedly more to it than that, given the Jedi's presence on board the _Spire_ and Commander Onasi's tension, but he did not ask.

Instead, he saw to it that the crew was prepared and orderly, for when the word finally came down from the admiralty.

Although, he would have to do something about the atmosphere on the bridge. Other than the fact that Commander Onasi looked as though he was about to tear off the edge of the console he was gripping, his anxiety was translating to the crew members on the bridge. One of the female ensigns turned to give him another look over her shoulder. The commander didn't notice but Larijen did, and gave her a pointed stare. She hurriedly returned her attention to her station.

"Sir, if I may have a word?" Larijen murmured to the commander.

"Of course," Onasi replied, not bothering with formalities. "What's on your mind?"

"I understand that there are levels of secrecy about this mission, sir, which I am not privy too, so I'm not asking. However, commander, I have noticed that your demeanor is beginning to affect the crew."

Onasi threw a sharp look up at him, but Larijen remained calm. He hadn't become a good 2IC without the ability to gently prod his captains.

Commander Onasi then let out a short sigh. "I know… I know."

"Sir?"

Both of them looked up— it was the ensign at the communications console. "The Jedi's party is completely boarded, and we have received a message from the Admiral: we are to proceed as soon as possible."

The engines were already running hot— the sooner this was started, the sooner it was done— and Carth gave a few short orders, trying not to let his voice belie his true feelings on this mission.

Obviously it wasn't working. The rest of the crew was now distracted as they proceeded to pull away from their moorings, but Larijen had his eyes trained on his commanding officer.

Carth took a few moments before beckoning his 2IC closer. "You're not cleared to know everything, Larijen, but in case something goes wrong, you should know what we're dealing with." The other man said nothing but raised an eyebrow. Dryly, the commander continued. "One of the Jedi's party is a prisoner, a dark Jedi. It is on _her_ information that we're moving."

Larijen couldn't keep the shock off of his face entirely, but quickly schooled his expression, taking in the information in stride. Carth's respect for the man increased with that; he'd have to tell Trax how his old LC was doing.

When all of this was over.

He let out a soft snort, unnoticed by any of the others. A quick glance through the viewport and to his own console informed Carth that they were clear of the dock— "Jump to these coordinates," he ordered, transmitting them to the other officers' stations, "to join with our escort."

With that, he returned to his brooding, barely sparing a glance for when the bridge doors slid open, admitting two Jedi— Bastila Shan one of them. The girl was as superior as any Jedi, but Dodonna had at least been right about one thing, Carth wasn't about to take crap from _any_ of the Jedi on board. They may have considered it 'their' mission, but it was Republic women and men that were going to be fighting for them.

He intended to see to it that they made it through the day alive.

**---**

**---**

Revan was sitting quietly, watching the stars outside the viewport.

Apparently she commanded a room with a view, although she would chalk that more up to the Jedi party not wanting to be sequestered deep within the ship. Claustrophobia, probably… Personally, she was most at ease deep within the metal and circuitry, the vibrations of the engine and the hum of the hyperdrive surrounding her.

It allowed her to relax, even while the Jedi guarding her visibly tensed, one of her favorite methods of frustrating them.

For now, things were going well, though— while in hyperspace— there wasn't much that could be screwed up.

Soon enough they'd reach their destination, though. And, Revan couldn't deny a certain eagerness… it had been weeks since she had been in battle. True, she wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the bridge short of Malak himself showing up, and she'd have to live with the pitiful maneuvers of the Republic officers. After being confined in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, however, she would take it.

**---**

**---**

They were getting close. There were a few minutes yet to go, but Carth could already feel his heart beating a little faster. All the same, he began to feel calm settling over him, despite the circumstances… this was where he belonged, this was where he could do some good.

By now the Sith had almost certainly detected their approach. Carth went ahead and strode up behind the pilot's console, gesturing for the lieutenant there to vacate the position.

It may have been early, but he intended to bring them in the rest of the way, as close as he possibly could. Whatever defenses were being mustered, if he could jump in _past_ their lines, it'd be easier to hold out and present the illusion that they were really here to attack.

He looked back towards Larijen and the two Jedi that had been observing. Shan gave a short but graceful bow. "I shall retire to prepare my Battle Meditation," she informed them.

Carth gave a short nod, before returning his attention to the controls; he wouldn't deny any advantage the young Jedi could give them, but he wasn't about to rely on it. All the same, he was aware that her abilities had helped turn the tide in many a battle the Republic had fought… if they were lucky, she'd be able to pull it off again.

A few adjustments pushed the _Spire_ out ahead of the other ships in the phalanx, and he transmitted those calculations their pilots would need to come in behind him.

Larijen was doing his job with excellence, handing down commands and transmitting them throughout the ship and fleet, while Onasi took over piloting duties. For the lieutenant commander's part, he took no issue with the commander's choice— he had heard of Onasi's heroic piloting, and with the disaster they were willingly flying in to, he couldn't blame the man for wanting to take the helm himself.

Seeing their commander working among them also seemed to bolster the crew's morale, he noted with a wry but satisfied smile.

"Prepare to drop out of hyperspace in twenty," Commander Onasi warned, establishing a timer counting away the last few seconds. "Ten…" Then he was punching at his own controls, dropping out of hyperspace right on the mark.

Someone barely got the chance to yell "_Incoming fire!_" before the ship rocked with the splash of lasers across their stern shields.

"All stations fire at will," Carth ordered, voice rising above the sudden frenzy in the bridge.

Onasi yanked hard on his controls, the ship jerking in response, but avoiding the majority of the next salvo. Two of the smaller escort ships broke off to flank the _Endar Spire_, keeping fighters off their tail. Carth led them in a loop, rounding on one of the larger ships in orbit over the planet. Information scrolling up a corner of his console and flashes of green blaster fire indicated that the gunners were going their jobs.

However, there was an even larger net of crisscrossing red fire around them— Carth clenched his teeth. Instead of facing them ship on ship, the enemy fleet had readied their fighters— dangerous with ships jumping in from hyperspace, a poorly located fighter could get obliterated. But then, as Revan said, it wasn't like Malak was being conservative.

The reckless tactics he was seeing confirmed that. Even as Carth watched he saw one Sith fighter do a suicide-crash into one of the just-launched Republic fighters. More of the fighters were peppering the _Spire_.

It was usually one of the more stupid things a captain could order his troops to do, but Carth just set his mouth in a grim line, accepting it as another hazard of facing the Sith.

The real problem was that it seemed like _all_ of the Sith fighters were focusing on the _Spire_— the frigates on their flanks could only do so much without the risk of hitting their own ship.

Carth swept the ship into the flight path of several oncoming fighters— many of them exploded on the shields. He could see the fluctuations in the power to the shields flash across his screen but ignored them— he was going to have to play quick and dirty to have any chance of making it out of this in one piece.

Except that the enemy fleet seemed more intent on destroying them than defending themselves. The bridge jerked harshly as the shields failed, alarms blaring, even as one of the Sith frigates exploded.

"What the hell is going on?" Carth demanded to the bridge at large.

An explosion suddenly burst from someone's console, and there were screams— "Get them to the infirmary!" Larijen barked, catching himself on a panel— "Sir, the rest of the fleet is able to hold, but is unable to assist— it seems the Sith are putting just enough pressure on them to keep them away from _us_."

A huge and silent flash of light on one of the viewscreens showed the destruction of one of their escorts— at least five ships were now focusing on the _Endar Spire_ and its remaining escort, not counting the individual fighters.

"Shit!" _They know_, Carth thought to himself, bracing himself against the console with one hand to prevent himself from slamming into it. He couldn't indulge in anxiety anymore, though, the men and women around him needed him to be steadfast.

There was nothing more he could do in the pilot's chair, not when he was surrounded by opposing ships— "Ensign, retake your station," he ordered, relinquishing it to the young man who seemed very relieved to not be standing anymore. "Move to rejoin the fleet, prepare to pull back." He looked up to Larijen. "Send out the order."

The lieutenant commander gave a curt nod from across the bridge, fighting to stay standing himself but giving little sign of fear.

This had been a battle they had never intended to win, but the destruction of one of the ships under his command weighed on Carth heavily; worse yet, it seemed that Malak already had some idea of what was going on, since the majority of his fleet above Taris was putting most of their fire on the _Spire_.

Another shudder ran down the spine of the ship, and the usual deep humming of the ship's engines tapered into a whine. "We just lost our port engine!" Within seconds Carth could feel the stillness of the metal under his feet, and knew the starboard engine had gone too— at least until the next shock.

"This is going to hell," Carth muttered to himself, fighting to stay upright by gripping one of his officer's chairs as another volley hit home. Accessing a now vacated console, he accessed the shipwide comm— "This is Commander Carth Onasi— all hands… prepare for evacuation."

That was the end of it… there wasn't any way they could pull this off now. All that was left was escaping alive.

**---**

**---**

_Damn it!_ Malak couldn't have known that Revan was still alive, she was certain of it. Her— _his_, she corrected, gritting her teeth as the ship shook once more— network of spies was extensive, but didn't penetrate the Jedi Order as thoroughly as she had wished. As far as the Republic forces went, only the upper admiralty had known… but none of that countered the fact that the Sith forces were decimating the _Endar Spire_.

One of the Knights with her caught her arm the next time the ship shook. "The ship is lost, we're evacuating," he informed her, the muscles of his face pulled tight in anxiety.

Revan's eyes flashed, going over every option, before she finally said, "Take me to the bridge."

Her guard stiffened, before trying to insist, "There is nothing we can do; if our efforts are to be salvaged—"

"There's no salvaging— _this_," she hissed as the room tilted around them once more. "We cannot abandon the mission now! There may yet be a chance. Now— the _bridge_," she commanded, eyes boring into him.

He hesitated under her stare.

**---**

**---**

"Commander Onasi."

Carth whirled, eyes wide with disbelief at the voice he just heard. "What is _she_ doing on my bridge?" he demanded of the Jedi who was standing behind Revan, ignoring the confusion of his officers.

"She insists there is a way to continue to our planned target—"

"Screw the plan," Carth barked in reply. "I'm not convinced you didn't have a part in this," he shot towards the fallen Jedi.

"I routinely blow up ships I am currently on," was the dry reply.

Whatever spectacular argument was about to break out was cut short by the sudden metallic _thud_ that reverberated across the hull and through the ship. "What was that?" one of his ensigns asked nervously.

"Boarders." Carth shot another look at Revan, who had spoken at the same time. Seeing his commander was occupied, Larijen went ahead and sent out the order to repel, despite a gash on his face that was currently bleeding.

"How many of the Jedi are still on board?" Carth asked after a moment, tearing his eyes from the hated woman.

"I instructed my Jedi to remain until further order was given," the older Knight replied. "All but Bastila Shan," he amended. "She was unable to assist with her Battle Meditation, so I ordered her off the ship." Carth nodded; she was an asset to the Republic Forces, they had to try to save her if possible. The Jedi looked as though he were going to add something, when yet another _clang_ resounded, followed closely by another. He managed to recompose himself, though. "However, I sense that Bastila has not yet left the ship."

"They've been sent to capture her." All eyes turned to Revan once more. She simply raised an eyebrow.

"You know this _how?_"

"It's what I would do," she informed Onasi smoothly. "Besides, Malak has no need to capture ships," Revan reminded him. "It's the only reason he would spare the effort."

"If you can tell if she's on board, sir," Larijen broke in, nodding to the older Jedi, "can the Sith?"

"If they know she's here—"

"They do."

"—Then _yes_," he informed the lieutenant commander, sparing a reproving glance for Revan's interruption.

"Then that means the second Shan is gone, they're going to lay waste to the _Spire_," Carth concluded. He activated the ship's comm once more. "This is Commander Onasi— I am ordering a _complete_ evacuation. All hands abandon ship." He looked across his bridge, to the officers staring back at him. "You're all dismissed from your posts— go!" he added, spurring them on as they each rose from their stations. He turned to his short-time 2IC and nodded to him as well. The man gave him a salute before hustling the other officers out.

Good men and women… and most of them were going to die, Carth knew. If the rest of the fleet was unable to assist them before, there was no way they'd get the chance to pick up any pods. The best chance they had was to get to the planet's surface, which included making it past the Sith's orbital defense array.

Looking back to the two Jedi— one a Knight and the other disgraced, he threw out, "That includes _you_."

Revan was about to reply when she tilted her head, eyes seemingly searching for something. After a moment, the older male Jedi reacted as well.

"What's going on?"

"Dark Jedi are on board," he informed Carth, activating his lightsaber which burnt a bright green.

Revan was still not looking at them. "The ship has taken too much structural damage… the personnel won't be able to evacuate quickly enough."

The other man looked to Carth. "I should join my companions— we will seek out and hold off the dark Jedi as long as we can to give your people a chance to evacuate. We will know when Bastila leaves."

Before Carth had a chance to reply, Revan broke back in, finally choosing to join their conversation. "It won't be enough. The ship's about to fall apart as is… But… I may be able to buy you some time," she suddenly mused.

"What do you mean?" Carth demanded, suspicion rising once more. Revan did not answer, eyes staring off into space, before she leaned forward with a sharp inhalation, gripping the console in front of her with white knuckles.

He was already going for his blaster when the Knight cried, "Wait!" putting his free hand on Carth's arm. "She's reinforcing the internal structure of the ship…" His eyes grew a little glossy, his mouth falling open slightly.

Carth was taken aback; "Is that possible?"

The Jedi looked back to him, still seeming surprised. "Apparently… I have no idea how she's managing it, but she is."

"And she would find it easier to focus if you would stop talking," Revan grated, eyes still clenched shut.

Another blast rocked the ship, causing Revan to flinch, though she remained otherwise steady where she had braced herself. Carth watched her, not sure, but then glanced at the command console, which fed him the numbers of Republic soldiers still on board.

He hesitated only a second, before making up his mind, turning to the older Jedi and telling him, "Go, I'll keep an eye on her."

The other man nodded decisively, before pulling a long cylinder out from his robe that Carth recognized a moment later as the hilt of a lightsaber, Revan's presumably. He thrust it into Carth's hands before spinning, cloak whirling out behind him, and dashing from the bridge.

And then it was just the two of them. The ship continued to rock— no more shuttles, it seemed, but the presence of their own people didn't seem to be stopping the Sith from continuing their barrage. Each shudder seemed less pronounced than before, however, and Carth checked the damage reports— the blasts were connecting, but the ship was holding. He looked back up to Revan.

This woman had betrayed the Republic, brought it to its _knees_… She had cost him his family and his entire life with them.

And yet she stood there, holding the _Endar Spire_ with literally nothing more than sheer will power.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can, now _shut up_," Revan growled, twisting her head only slightly towards him. Blood was running down from one side of her nose, and there seemed to be a tic under one eye.

He didn't know how Jedi powers worked, but from the other one's amazement, it wasn't a stretch to imagine that something of this magnitude would induce a humongous strain— Carth checked the number on board again. If for nothing more than their sakes, he fell silent.

As for Revan— she had always been powerful when wielding the force, but never anything like this. Then again, she'd never had a ship destroyed around her. Seemingly once again, she was left with a situation where she could not win, but still chose to assist.

She had hardly given it thought at the time and had no effort to spare on thinking it over now— the pressure in her blood had already broken the fragile vessels in her nose, causing her to bleed, but now there was blood coming from her ears as well, even a bit at the corners of her eyes. All of this simply occurred to her as wetness that did little to distract her from the pounding pain in her mind, increasing with each blast and explosion as she struggled to maintain her hold, along with…

She let out a short, sharp breath, catching the commander's attention. "Shan is off the ship."

The computers showed approximately a third of its crews life signs still on board. That meant the rest had escaped— or were already dead. A good number of escape pods had launched, though. As he watched, yet another was released, and began to steer down towards the planet.

As expected, though, the bombardment immediately increased; he turned to watch Revan. At first, her only reaction was to clench her fists, but with each new salvo she would flinch, shaking even when they weren't being hit.

Checking the numbers yet again, Carth bit one lip, before calling up a different screen— controls for the command pods. There was still one left— Larijen would have seen to that, he thought— and he initiated its start-up sequence. It was going to be ready to launch by the time they got there.

Silently, he apologized to those he was leaving behind, but from what he could see, there wasn't much left for Revan to hold together. She had bought them a few minutes at least, and it had allowed most of the crew a chance to escape.

"All right, that's gonna have to be enough. _Come on_," he ordered, putting a tight hand on Revan's shoulder. She responded by sagging to one side, eyes fluttering slightly, appearing quite red from burst blood vessels in the whites.

It was immediately apparent when she released her hold, because the ship began to shudder violently— the strain of its beatings was finally catching up to it. Carth balked for a moment… then he cursed, yanking one of her arms over his shoulders.

"Move it," Carth ordered, not waiting for Revan to respond— the woman was light enough, he simply dragged her along.

Off the bridge, he opened the bulkhead door into the next corridor, before suddenly pulling the both of them to one side as blaster fire broke out.

"_Shit!_" He yanked his sidearm out, attempting to duck around the corner and pick at the Sith who were waiting there. Revan was pressed up into the corner, her breathing hard. Carth got off only a couple of shots before being forced to pull his head back around, or risk getting it taken off.

He glanced up at his current companion, but then looked back to the bulkhead. She wasn't exactly in a position to assist, unfortunately.

Or at least, that's what he thought. He only saw her raise one shaking hand, before she twisted it, closing her fist. A circuit in the corridor overloaded and Carth quickly shielded his eyes from the light of the electricity arcing through the bodies of the Sith foot soldiers.

There was no time for words, however, as the woman practically collapsed on top of Carth. Luckily, he was right, and she was light— unfortunately, he found that out by picking her up and carrying her, left with little other option.

Evidently she was still conscious, for when he finally got them to the escape pod, she began to fumble to strap herself in. Satisfied, Carth took the pilot's seat, completing the last few preparations for launch. The screen was flashing with a warning of the _Endar Spire_'s imminent destruction.

Sparing only a glance backwards to make sure his passenger had actually strapped in, Carth found one very haggard Jedi staring back at him, before she closed her eyes and rested her head back against the seat.

Carth punched the launch control, then fought the stick as the pod tried to tumble once free of the beleaguered _Spire_.

Beams of red washed across the view screen, shaking the pod, but then, something this small was infinitely more maneuverable than a ship. He banked hard, bringing them to bear with the wide expanse of Taris below them.

There was a flash of light that whited-out the viewer, and the shuttle bucked once more— the _Endar Spire_ was no more.

Carth was left with no time to think about the ship or the people still on it, because he had to fight for every measure of distance they fell, dodging back and forth, twisting around enemy fighters, avoiding the defense cannons in orbit.

Even past the cannons, they rained fire on the pod, although with decreasing accuracy. There were even more fighters on his tail, though, and he couldn't shake them. The only thing left for Carth to do, then, was to ride this thing all the way down to the surface.

It was a game of chicken— Carth refused to slow down and chance getting caught by the fighters on his tail, but the surface was approaching fast.

In the end it was the fighters that broke off, and Carth had to pull on the stick as hard as he humanly could to get the pod to veer up— less than half a kilometer above the spires of Taris.

Even so, he couldn't get it level, not that quickly, and instead poured all the power into reverse thrusters, slowing the pod as much as possible as it dropped towards the platforms, coming in to skid—

_SKREEEEEEEEE_— the horrible screeching was cut off as they suddenly hit the lip of a platform and flipped right over it— Carth fumbled at his thruster controls, desperately trying to right them and direct the pod to a lower platform.

He barely managed to stabilize their spin, bringing them down on what seemed to be a maintenance walkway. The pod bounced a few times, slamming his head into his seat, before finally skidding to a halt.

Carth drew in a long, ragged breath, sagging in his restraints, blood pounding in his head. Then he could hear the sounds of the outside world— skimmers and speeders and city life.

The Sith couldn't have missed them coming down… lucky, it seemed Carth had managed to put the pod some place that wasn't already covered in people, but he knew it wouldn't take long.

Groaning, he undid the straps across his chest, noting the soreness of his bruised ribs where they had dug in during the harrowing flight. A quick inspection of his passenger told him she was out cold, with a few fresh cuts along the side of her face, although it was difficult to tell what with the bloody mess she already was. Revan was still breathing, though, so he went ahead and unstrapped her as well.

He opened the pod door, before stepping back to pick up the unconscious woman. He had brought her this far… there was no point in leaving her behind now.

Stepping out into the shafted sunlight, Carth started for the closest building, before pausing to look back at the craft. There were scorch- and skid-marks across the walkway, and smoke was emerging from several of the thrusters, various panels bent or torn or gone completely.

"Too close…" Carth exhaled, readjusting his grip on the woman he now held.

They weren't out of the fire yet.

* * *

**a/n: Hello again! **

**Yes, it took me an inordinately long amount of time to get this to you… Happy… late Christmas? No, the bad part is, only about two pages of this was pre written… the other 13 or so I wrote today.**

**On the plus side! Our… uh… heroes doesn't quite fit… our **_**people**_** find themselves on Taris' surface! Now we have a bit more to draw upon, plus the truly fun part begins— Carth and Revan stuck with each other. Alone.**

**We see not so much of Revan in this chapter, but plenty of Carth, to whom I hope I did proper justice. He did indeed have a 'hellfit', as was suggested. :) Actually, that made me giggle so much, I actually put it in my outline exactly like that: 'Carth has hellfit'. This chapter gave me the chance to showcase the soldier side of him, as well as the command side, so I hope he did well.**

**Thanks to Nyghtraven, general-jospeh-dickson, spoodles, nxkris, GinsengH, jodan-no-ken, Voldy's pink teddy, and Atrer Potter! Now that we've reached the bulk of the storyline, I hope to see you all again, very soon.**

**:DemonicK**


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